


Love at Second Sight

by Chesra



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-16 18:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chesra/pseuds/Chesra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another life, sometimes things work out for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Slow down, we've got time left to be lazy_   
_All the kids are bloom from babies into flowers in our eyes_   
_We've got fifty good years left to spend out in the garden_   
_I don't care to beg your pardon, we should live until we die_

_( -The Gambler | fun.)  
_

\--

 

He meets Munakata again in a bar.

 

It is oddly fitting; in the dim light Mikoto would have thought he was just someone else with a passing resemblance. He is sitting upright on the bar stool, looking unruffled by the loud noises. Up on the stage, someone is crooning a song about unrequited love.

 

Mikoto slides in the seat beside him and orders his usual drink. Munakata glances at him, his lips parting in surprise when he realizes whom it is.

 

"Suoh Mikoto," he intones coolly, when the bartender leaves. Mikoto swivels his stool to face him.

 

Munakata looks the same. He's not dressed in the stuffy SCEPTER4 uniform but he makes his outfit look just as stuffy anyway, with the amount of clothes he has on. His expression isn't discernible in the light, but Mikoto can guess what face he’s making.

 

"Munakata," he greets back.

 

"Fancy meeting you here," Munakata murmurs, and the lilt in his voice tells Mikoto that Munakata has drunk enough to let his guard down. He's not a big fan of tipsy Munakata, but perhaps this one would at least talk to him instead of just leaving. After all, the last time they saw each other, Mikoto had forced him to stab him in the chest. He's not sure how well Munakata's going to react to seeing him again.

 

Mikoto's drink arrives. Before he can take it, though, Munakata grabs the glass from the bartender's hand and flings the whiskey at Mikoto's face.

 

"That," he says, as Mikoto gapes at him like a fish, "is for last time." Then he unsteadily gets up to his feet and walks out of the bar.

 

Mikoto wipes his face with his hand, grinning, ignoring the cold liquid slowly spreading down his shirt. Then he stands up to chase Munakata, uncaring that half of the bar is staring at him.

 

Munakata is halfway down the street when Mikoto finally catches up with him. He touches him gently in the shoulder, and Munakata turns sharply, his elbow aiming for Mikoto's face. Mikoto dodges it and grabs him by the wrists. "I take it you're angry," he says, smirking.

 

Munakata looks furious. "Let me go, Suoh."

 

"No," Mikoto says. Munakata breaks one hand free from his grasp and punches him. This time Mikoto doesn't evade it; he just braces for the pain. Munakata isn’t holding back - his fist connects with Mikoto's jaw so hard it feels like it got dislocated.

 

"We okay now?" Mikoto says, wincing just a little. That is going to be an ugly bruise he'll have to explain to Kusanagi and Totsuka tomorrow.

 

Munakata scoffs. "I'd have to be able to punch you a million times before I call it even," he hisses, but he looks considerably less angry than he was ten seconds ago. Mikoto smirks.

 

"I'm ready whenever you are," he drawls, gesturing to his cheek. Munakata just gives him a disdainful look and turns away.

 

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Munakata mutters as he begins to walk. Mikoto keeps up with his pace.

 

"I was getting a drink," Mikoto says. "I didn't think I'd run into you there."

 

Munakata glares at him. "Don't you have your own bar?"

 

"Kusanagi wanted something a little less dangerous this time around," Mikoto says. "We have a coffee shop now." Munakata gives him an incredulous look. "I'm not kidding. You can pass by if you want."

 

"No thanks," Munakata says. "I'd rather not see your face ever again."

 

Mikoto slides his hand into Munakata's, intertwining their fingers, and pulls him to a stop right in front of a streetlight. Munakata turns to face him, his expression perfectly readable thanks to the light. "Does the sight of me still make you sick?" he murmurs, pulling him close enough to see Munakata's eyes glaring at him.

 

"What do you think?" Munakata murmurs back. He doesn't pull away.

 

Mikoto grins, because nothing is easier than leaning in to close the gap between them. Munakata kisses him back with unparalleled ferocity, as if all his anger and frustration is spilling into the kiss. Mikoto doesn't mind. He feels the same familiar hunger welling up inside, itching for a fight. He buries his hand in Munakata's hair, tugging on it hard. Munakata growls, and Mikoto pulls away from the kiss to laugh out loud. He has never felt this alive since getting a second chance.

 

The remainder of the night falls into place, as if their chance meeting has been inevitable all along. Mikoto doesn't even remember how they manage to find their way to his apartment and up to his bedroom. There’s a trail of hastily removed clothes leading from the door to the bed. Munakata pushes him down the mattress with a wicked smile, and Mikoto's sure he's wearing the same anticipatory grin. He puts both his hands on Munakata's hips and flips him over, so he's the one towering over him.

 

"And here I thought I was the eager one," he says.

 

Munakata looks up at him with half-lidded eyes. "Suoh Mikoto, you have no idea how long you've made me wait for this," he breathes out, and beneath the amusement there is something close to bitter resentment. Mikoto has been expecting that - more of it, actually. He has an inkling that this in itself is a punishment, with how tight Munakata’s holding on to his wrists. But he doesn’t care – he’ll gladly welcome the pain. What matters now is that Munakata is here willingly, and Mikoto won't give him reason to regret it.

 

Munakata pulls him down sharply, capturing his lips with a vicious kiss. Mikoto licks off the blood, savoring it. He spreads Munakata’s legs apart with his knees, pressing down on him firmly. It's nothing they haven't ever done before - the weight of Munakata against his, the pressing touch of his skin, the intensity of the kisses, the taste of alcohol mixed with cigarettes. If anything Mikoto marvels at how familiar it all is; how they can fall into the same routine with the years between them. If Mikoto were more pessimistic he would imagine this was all a dream.

 

He'd be lying if he said he didn't dream of Munakata every now and then - wondered where the other man was, if he lived with the burden of memories from a past lifetime, if he ever thought of Mikoto as Mikoto did of him. But those had been fleeting moments. All he really wants now is to be happy, with Totsuka and Kusanagi and Anna, now that they've all found each other again. He's even encountered most of Homra, and they all seem reasonably content with their second chance. Mikoto intends to make the most of it.

 

But no one ever said he couldn't have Munakata too. Munakata's skin beneath his hands is easily his favorite sensation. Mikoto doesn't know how he's gone so long without this - all he knows is that he's not going to let this go again.

 

He leaves bite marks on Munakata's throat, scraping his teeth against the fragile skin. In retaliation Munakata drags his nails through his back, with every intention to hurt. Mikoto thrusts into him relentlessly. Munakata doesn't even muffle his cries - he screams in Mikoto's ear, savoring every wince.  They've never known how to be gentle with each other, and this time is no exception.

 

Eventually, Mikoto comes and Munakata soon follows. For a few minutes the only sound in the room is their mingled panting. When Munakata tries to get up, Mikoto forcibly weighs him down.

 

"Don't go," he says, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

 

Munakata rolls his eyes. "I don't want to fall asleep like this," he says, wrinkling his nose. Mikoto almost laughs - he's forgotten how prim and proper Munakata insists on being, even after sex. Mikoto lets him up, but he doesn't relax until Munakata crawls back into bed after taking a quick shower. Munakata positions his head in the space between Mikoto's neck and shoulder, and Mikoto clasps his arms around Munakata's waist.

 

They've always fit into each other, like the stupid puzzles Munakata likes so much. Mikoto doesn't believe in destiny, but he'll make an exception this once.

 

When Mikoto wakes up, the first thing he sees is Munakata naked in his bed, their legs still tangled. He watches the steady rise and fall of Munakata's chest, idly aware that he's never seen Munakata asleep. The other man always woke up earlier than him whenever they indulged themselves in their stolen moments. He would always be gone come morning, with not a single shred of evidence to indicate the previous evening had even happened, except for the throbbing pain in Mikoto's body and some swelling bruises.

 

After a few minutes, Munakata's eyes snap open, and he frowns at the scrutiny. He sits up and fumbles for his glasses, which Mikoto had haphazardly taken off his face last night. Munakata eventually locates them on the floor beside his pants. Unwillingly, Mikoto releases his grasp on Munakata's waist and lets him pick up his belongings.

 

Munakata puts on his glasses and heads for the bathroom. Mikoto trots after him, leaning against the doorframe as Munakata fusses over himself at the mirror.

 

"You're like an animal," Munakata complains as he surveys the bite marks at the mirror. Mikoto just smirks as he stares openly at Munakata's bare chest, strangely proud.

 

Mikoto walks up behind him and buries his head near Munakata's neck. "I think you need another one," he says, his teeth grazing the skin of Munakata's ear. He bites down, hard, and is rewarded by the muffled gasp of pain from Munakata's lips.

 

Munakata shoves him away, his hand covering his ear. "Are you out of your mind?" he hisses in outrage, his face flushed.

 

Mikoto laughs in reply. Munakata scowls at him and pushes him out of the bathroom, shutting the door at his face. When he emerges, he's fully dressed again, looking as pristine as ever. Mikoto shakes his head, amused. At least Munakata still hasn't lost that particular ability.

 

Munakata is already heading for the door. "I need to go. I have class," Munakata says.

 

Mikoto raises his eyebrow. "What?"

 

Munakata rolls his eyes. "Some of us are on track for a postgraduate degree on the field of Medicine, Suoh Mikoto. Not everyone prefers to lie around and be useless all day."

 

"I've had enough of being useful a lifetime ago," Mikoto says, and Munakata's eyes narrow. "I think I deserve a time off."

 

"Well not all of us are so privileged," Munakata sneers, and he turns to go. Mikoto steps in front of him.

 

"So when do I see you again?"

 

Munakata’s lips twitch upwards, and Mikoto catches a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "And here I was thinking this would be a one-time thing."

 

Nothing between them has ever been a one-time thing. Of course, they had never talked about seeing each other again before, either. That had always been a given, a lifetime ago. But this is a different time, and Mikoto refuses to let last night be a chance encounter. Mikoto stares at him stubbornly, and Munakata sighs in resignation. He reaches for his pocket and pulls out his phone. "Give me your number."

 

Mikoto blinks in response. Munakata smiles at him thinly. "You can't exactly summon me by committing heinous atrocities anymore, right? The easiest way is by phone."

 

Mikoto shrugs, knowing he can't argue with that logic. He starts to look for his own phone in the room. Munakata patiently waits for him to find it, tapping his foot in slight annoyance. "I don't have my number memorized," Mikoto explains, as he checks his drawers.

 

Munakata eventually sighs loudly, and grabs a colored pen from bedside table - probably one of Anna's things that she's left lying around whenever she comes by. "If you take any longer, I'm going to be late," he says bluntly. "So here." He takes Mikoto's arm and scrawls a series of numbers on it. "Don't call in the afternoon unless it's important. I'm either in class or studying." Munakata gives him one last threatening look before letting himself out of Mikoto's apartment.

 

Mikoto calls him that very same afternoon anyway. Munakata picks up and predictably gets mad at him, getting more and more long-winded by the minute. Mikoto listens to the sound of his voice, wondering where this hopeless need is springing up from.

 

Kusanagi and Totsuka laugh at him as he sits on the couch in the back of the coffee shop, his phone glued to his ear.

 

"I never would have pegged you for a romantic, Mikoto-san," Totsuka teases, grinning. Mikoto had made him stop calling him "King" the moment they saw each other again. Totsuka's content to call him Mikoto-san; on occasions he mimics Kusanagi's world-weary tone of calling him without the honorific.

 

"He's actually really clingy," Kusanagi says, rolling his eyes. "We should warn off Munakata-san while we still can."

 

Mikoto ignores both of them, focusing on Munakata. "So why are you calling, anyway?" Munakata is asking, exasperated.

 

"No reason," Mikoto answers honestly. At that, he hears Munakata draw an angry breath, and the line goes dead. Mikoto heaves a sigh of his own and decides against dialing Munakata's number right away.

 

Later in the evening, Munakata enters the coffee shop. He finds Mikoto instantly, his eyes narrowing. He stalks past the tables, ignoring all the customers looking at him curiously.

 

"What part of "I'm busy" do you not understand, Suoh Mikoto?" he asks coldly as he sits down on the couch beside him, still glaring. Mikoto shrugs, and slides his arm around Munakata's shoulder. Munakata shoves it off, clearly still annoyed.

 

"You're here, aren't you?" Mikoto points out.

 

Munakata huffs. "How lucky for you that you always get what you want," he says sarcastically. Then he folds his arms. "Get me a drink."

 

Mikoto grins, and pesters Kusanagi for some alcohol. He's glad his friend still stocks some bottles among his coffee beans. They drink quietly in the back of the shop, and when Munakata's head begins to nod against his chest, Mikoto silently helps him up. Totsuka opens the backdoor for them with a mischievous smile.

 

"Don't forget to use protection!" he calls out cheerily as they walk down the street, and Munakata freezes up beside Mikoto, his face burning in mortification.

 

"I hate you and your people so much," he mutters wearily. Mikoto just puts his hand in his pockets, trying to hide his own grin from Munakata. Munakata catches sight of it anyway and scowls at him, promising a rougher night than before. The thought sends shivers down Mikoto's spine.

 

From there on it's easy to settle into something familiar, and more often than not, Mikoto wakes up with Munakata beside him. He's come to crave Munakata's warmth in his bed the same way he can't stand a day not hearing Munakata's voice, even if all he has to say is sarcastic remarks about Mikoto's current lifestyle. On weekends Mikoto steals all of Munakata's time, even if he has to stay in the library and watch him pore over his books. Munakata refuses to study in Mikoto's apartment - "You keep distracting me with sex," he complains - so Mikoto follows him to wherever he intends to study. Munakata's own apartment is a no-sex zone, too. It's crammed with books and papers, and Mikoto always feels claustrophobic whenever he goes there. How Munakata even gets any sleep in his place is beyond him.

 

The only thing Mikoto hates is the fact that Munakata has to tiptoe away early in the morning when he has class. "Don't leave," he says, on more than one occasion.

 

Munakata sighs. "My books are in my apartment, Suoh," he reminds him. "And I need to study for the final."

 

"So move here." Mikoto purses his lips petulantly.

 

Munakata gives him a look of disbelief. "You want us to be _roommates?_ "

 

Mikoto shrugs. That is the probable next step, isn't it? Munakata stays over so often it doesn't even matter. Living together can't be so difficult.

 

Munakata narrows his eyes. "You'd have to pull your own weight," he says. "I refuse to do everything for you. I'm not going to be your housekeeper, Suoh."

 

"I know," Mikoto says, sitting up. "So you're moving in." He makes his tone as final as he can. Munakata just shakes his head and picks up his clothes from the floor.

 

A week later, Munakata finishes bringing in all the boxes in Mikoto's apartment. "I suppose it's good that you don't have too many things," he says as he surveys the state of the living room. Mikoto shrugs. He's never been much for material things. In fact, most of his appliances in his room were either gifts or things he'd bought to keep Munakata from complaining. A fine example of the latter was the coffee maker.

 

"I'll have to give Awashima my own," Munakata says, giving the coffee maker from his apartment a thoughtful look. "It would be pointless to have two." Mikoto just shrugs in agreement. It isn't as if he drinks coffee, anyway. Munakata also prefers to brew tea, but only when he has free time. Since his morning classes have begun, he barely has time for it.

 

Mikoto wraps his arms around Munakata's abdomen and runs his hands up his chest. Munakata gives him a stony glare. "We're not done unpacking," he hisses. Mikoto rolls his eyes. Munakata lets him fuck him anyway, though he grumbles all throughout. Mikoto doesn't mind. He's learned that Munakata complains about the littlest things a long time ago, and it's when he's quiet that Mikoto should worry.

 

Munakata fills their living room with shelves full of medical books. Mikoto sometimes comes upon him asleep on the table, his notes spread out in front of him. Kusanagi had once explained to him that Munakata's chosen field of study was particularly difficult to succeed in. As far as Mikoto is concerned, Munakata only lives to complicate his own existence. You would think someone who had borne the weight of the world on his shoulders would consider taking it easy on his second life. Mikoto just sighs and throws a blanket over him before stepping out again.

 

When he comes back late that night, Munakata is blearily blinking at him, his eyes drooping from the lack of sleep. "Sorry," he murmurs, the blanket wrapped closely around him, reminiscent of how Totsuka used to do when he slept in the bar, a long time ago. Mikoto drops down to sit beside him, kissing him gently on the cheek.

 

"I should probably call Fushimi about some of these later," Munakata sighs, casting a dark look at his notes. "He's talked to our professor about it already." Much to Mikoto's surprise, Munakata still keeps up with Fushimi - considers him a friend, even, since they both go to the same university. They have several classes together, though Fushimi is taking a different course. Fushimi's still as sullen as Mikoto remembers: he had scowled at Mikoto openly when he had seen him again together with Munakata.

 

Mikoto would have been jealous if he hadn't known that Fushimi's with Yata - something no one from HOMRA had expected at all. Yata seems happy, though, and Mikoto isn't one to judge anyone for what gives them happiness. Fushimi rarely shows up at the coffee shop, probably finally at peace with the fact that he can't have Yata all to himself. Yata, for his part, genuinely seems to understand his boyfriend better than he did a lifetime ago. Totsuka's proud of them. Kusanagi just seems glad there's no trouble. As for Mikoto, he doesn't really care. People have to be responsible for their own lives now. He's not their King anymore, and he's glad to be free of that duty. The only thing he wants to be responsible now is his own happiness, selfish as it might sound.

 

He grabs Munakata, blanket and all, and hauls him up the bedroom. Munakata doesn’t even make a noise of protest, a sure sign that he’s exhausted. Mikoto drops him unceremoniously on the bed. Munakata rolls to the left side to make room for Mikoto. Mikoto puts his arms around him and pulls him close.

 

Munakata shakes his head as Mikoto leaves soft kisses on his collarbone. “Suoh, I’m tired,” Munakata murmurs, putting his hand on Mikoto’s chest as a mild form of resistance.

 

“I know,” Mikoto murmurs back, squeezing closer. Munakata opens his eyes to look at him. He looks surprised – which, in turn, surprises Mikoto. Did Munakata think he’s some sex-crazed fiend or something? “Go get some sleep.” He throws the covers over them, knowing how easily Munakata gets cold.

 

Munakata gives him a sleepy smile, a rarity in its own. He burrows in Mikoto’s embrace and falls asleep soon after, leaving Mikoto with a rare sense of peace. Mikoto has realized since Munakata moved in that he likes sleeping with him, in the most literal sense of the phrase. The mere presence of him makes Mikoto feel a lot calmer, whether or not they had sex prior. It’s no wonder that his favorite thing is waking up to the sight of Munakata every morning, curled up beside him.

 

Right now everything is perfect. Mikoto is certain he's happy with how life is at the moment, and he'd be perfectly content to let it stay like this forever. He wakes up the next morning with this conviction in his head.

 

He curls his hand around Munakata's wrist, causing him to stir. Munakata raises his head sleepily. "Suoh?" he whispers, his body still half buried in the covers.

 

"We should get married," Mikoto says.              

 


	2. Chapter 2

Reisi must still be dreaming; Suoh had just said something about marriage. He sleepily pushes the covers away with his free hand as he sits up, yawning. Reisi glances down at his left hand, still in Suoh's grip. He looks up at the man lying on the bed beside him.

 

Suoh is looking at him expectantly. Reisi blinks. "Yes?"

 

Suoh sighs, and tugs at his wrist. "I said," and with his other arm, he grabs Reisi by the waist and pulls him down, "we should get married," he whispers in his ear.

 

Reisi is definitely wide awake now. Laughing shakily, he extricates himself from Suoh's grasp. "It's too early for jokes, Suoh," he says. "I have to get ready for class."

 

He manages to plant his feet down on the floor when Suoh props his head on his shoulder, the weight effectively stopping him from getting up. "I'm not joking," he says, his face turned towards Reisi's.

 

Reisi feels his face grow warm. "You can't be serious," he snaps, and he jostles Suoh off his shoulder. He reaches for his glasses at the bedside table and stands up, meaning to head out. Unfortunately, Suoh is leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, frowning.

 

"I am serious," Suoh says, his arms folded. Reisi attempts to sidestep him, but Suoh doesn't budge. Reisi's annoyed now - he doesn't have time for this. He's going to be late if this keeps up. "I want to marry you. Don't you want to?"

 

Reisi lets his shoulders slump. "Suoh, you're not serious. _We're_ not serious. This is just - " he makes a gesture, unable to put it into words. It’s exactly what they are together - something that can't be said, something that isn't real. Isn't that how it’s always been? A lifetime ago they had slept together out of convenience, at least for Suoh's. Reisi had dared not speak of his own feelings, even until now. The less Suoh knows, the better.

 

He doesn't know what he's thinking, agreeing to this kind of relationship again. Clearly he still can’t deny Suoh anything, no matter how loudly he claims to protest against it. He cares for him too much, even though he is perfectly aware Suoh will never feel the same.

 

He thought he had made peace with the idea of it. He’s not entirely unhappy, either. So what if their relationship is purely physical? He has no wild fantasies of Suoh waking up one day and realizing he loves Reisi back. Life isn't a fairytale, after all. The most he is asking for is that Suoh will not force Reisi to kill him again.

 

But now suddenly Suoh is saying things like marriage and it is throwing him off balance. Is Suoh suggesting a marriage of convenience? What even is the point of tying Reisi down to him? They are already living together, at Suoh's insistence. What more can he possibly want from Reisi?

 

"What are you saying?" Suoh's eyebrows are furrowed.

 

"This is just a casual thing, isn't it?" Reisi shrugs. "We sleep together. That's it. This isn't a _real_ relationship. So why - " he stops mid-sentence when he sees Suoh's expression. "You didn't think we were - "

 

"We were what?" Suoh asks harshly, his mouth a thin line. "What the fuck do you mean this isn't real, Munakata?"

 

Reisi looks down at his clenched fists. "We're just doing what we did before," he says softly. "No strings attached. Just sex." When he raises his head again, he's met by Suoh's blank expression. "You didn't say anything," he adds, wincing at the pleading quality in his tone. Why is he coming across as the selfish one here? He has always tried to give Suoh exactly what he wants, as long as it’s within reason, and Suoh has never seemed to desire a deeper, more meaningful relationship. Reisi has never been able to understand him, and not for the lack of trying. He’s resigned himself to the fact that he doesn’t understand him at all, and he likely never will.

 

"That's what you think?" Suoh’s eyes are narrowed to slits. "That's what you _want?_ "

 

"No," Reisi says. "I thought that's what _you_ wanted." He is met by silence. Then, out of nowhere, his phone beeps, signaling he only has fifteen minutes to get to class. "I need to leave," he says, knowing well that he's going to be late.

 

This time, Suoh lets him pass. Reisi doesn't look back as he hurries out of the apartment.

 

\--

 

They aren’t supposed to be anything.

 

Reisi's mind is racing, still rattled by their conversation earlier this morning. He can barely pay attention to class. All he can think of is Suoh's expression when he had said their relationship isn't real. Suoh hadn't even looked that devastated when Reisi had stabbed him in the chest.

 

But what is he supposed to say? Suoh has never asked him to be lovers, and Reisi highly doubts that’s part of his intentions. At this point, Reisi has no idea what Suoh's intentions are anymore. He used to believe he could read Suoh like an open book, but that is all in the past. He can still guess what Suoh would do, of course, but whatever his reasons for doing them are beyond Reisi. He has also learned to stop reading into every little thing Suoh does because it usually means nothing. _He_ means nothing to Suoh. It is a fact he never fails to remind himself every time he is in Suoh Mikoto's company.

 

Truthfully, there's still a part of him that resents Suoh, that can't ever forgive him for what he had made Reisi do. And yet Reisi can't forgive himself either, for not being able to stop him. He had saved thousands of lives, but not the one he had wanted to save that day, and in the end that had weighed the most.

 

Sometimes he wonders if he stays with Suoh now as some kind of personal punishment. If that’s the case, he is more masochistic than he had presumed. But then again, there is no one else he can be with. He hadn't even met anyone from his previous life until he had begun his sophomore year in the university. Then he had run into Hidaka Akira, of all people. Hidaka had come to a stop, and had mouthed uncertainly, "Captain?" Reisi had never felt such a shock until that moment.

 

Hidaka had also met other SCEPTER4 members in the University. Reisi recalls the little cliques within his Clan; Hidaka had always been inseparable from Fuse, Gotou and Enomoto. They had all retained memories from the past, as Reisi had, and they had shown less astonishment upon seeing their King than Reisi had.

 

Seeing them still together had taught Reisi how bonds could overcome time. Reisi had felt momentary happiness at being reunited with his Clansmen once more, but instinctively he had known that he is nothing but their "Captain" to them. He has never been their friend, merely a memory from the past. They occasionally invite him out for gatherings, but the gatherings devolve into awkward moments after an hour or so. Reisi knows he makes people uncomfortable with his eccentric personality, so he's grateful that they try. But at the end of the day, he still can't make friends, only acquaintances.

 

He meets Awashima at the University too, half a year after. With Awashima it is easier – she has always been the closest person to Reisi; there is a degree of transparency between the two of them which Reisi could not have afforded with anyone else. Awashima eventually confesses to harboring feelings for him before - "But you don't need to worry, Captain," she says, and there's a secretive smile to match it as she fiddles with a ring on her finger, "that's all in the past."

Reisi smiles in relief. He's always admired Awashima Seri as a person, but he has known for a long time that he can never return her feelings. "It's Munakata, Awashima-kun," he says instead. "I am no one's Captain any longer." Unexpectedly, her revelation paves the way for friendship. Reisi quickly becomes comfortable in her presence, and basks in the presence of someone he can rely on for companionship.

 

It's a blessing to have her beside him as a friend and not simply a right hand subordinate; she has always been a capable and reliable person. Reisi doesn't know how to breach more intimate topics with her - it's always on the tip of his tongue to ask about Kusanagi Izumo, but if it turns out he isn't her fiancé, it would make things awkward – but it isn’t a huge concern. Awashima is a woman who faces forward, after all. She's moved on much better than Reisi or anyone else in SCEPTER4, having made many friends that are not part of her previous lifetime.

 

Awashima does not talk about the past and Reisi is loath to bring it up. They stick to mundane topics, like their shared university classes and professors, and meet at public places like the school library. Being with her feels like being encased in a safety bubble; it’s easy for Reisi to forget, and to only concentrate on his current life. Being reunited with his Clansmen had been disconcerting; his memories of the past had been something he had assumed as a mere passing fancy or delusion. But he’s slowly come to accept them as fact. His memories should not be a hindrance to his current ambitions. The fact that they are real shouldn’t change anything. Occasionally he dreams of searing fire and golden eyes, but with each passing day Suoh Mikoto becomes nothing but a half-forgotten fantasy.

 

That all changes when Reisi sees Fushimi Saruhiko once more.

 

He and Awashima are having their weekly study session in the library when Reisi happens to glance up and meet a set of apathetic blue eyes across the room. Those very same eyes go wide, and Reisi jolts in recognition. He sits up straighter to get a better look of the one who used to be his favorite subordinate.

 

Fushimi is standing still by the bookshelves. He scowls at both of them, looking unnerved, but he doesn’t look away when Reisi eagerly motions for him to join them. Awashima just rolls her eyes at him as he approaches.

 

"I see you still have that bad attitude, Fushimi-kun," she scolds. Reisi chuckles behind his hand. It's always a surprise to see Awashima snap into her serious demeanor, especially when they run into other SCEPTER4 members. Hidaka had looked crushed upon seeing them together one time - "We're not together," Reisi had reassured him, and had added with a wicked grin, "But she's engaged to someone else." The distress on Hidaka's face is akin to the expression Fushimi is currently making.

 

"How are you, Fushimi-san?" Reisi asks, curious.

 

"Fine," he responds shortly. Reisi spends the afternoon asking him questions about his current life, all of which Fushimi reluctantly answers. Reisi resolutely does not ask about Suoh Mikoto.

 

Around five in the afternoon, as the number of students in library dwindles down, Yata Misaki comes up at their table, cheerfully calling Fushimi's name. He barely spares a glance towards Reisi or Awashima. In response, Fushimi gives Yata a small smile, and leans up to kiss him softly in the cheek. The sight makes Reisi's chest feel tight.

 

Fushimi stands up, saying his quick goodbyes, and leaves the library holding hands with Yata. Reisi doesn't realize he's watching them go until Awashima coughs. Reisi turns to look at her.

 

"It's nice to be in love, isn't it?" she says, her chin cupped in her hands. The way she looks at Reisi feels like a reproach. Reisi just replies with a short laugh, and he goes back to his books, willing his hands not to tremble.

 

Reisi hasn't given much thought to love - he had been resigned to a solitary fate in his previous lifetime, after all - and now he spends too much time busying himself with work. The idea that he could find love now has never even crossed his mind.

 

But seeing Fushimi again has made other things cross his mind instead. All his regrets on the things he had and hadn’t done are flooding his brain. It turns out he still hasn’t let go of Suoh's memory.

 

But Suoh isn’t a memory any longer, is he? Fushimi had indirectly confirmed Suoh's existence with his earlier answers, and he likely remembers the past, just like everyone in SCEPTER4. Is he even the least bit apologetic? Does he even care about Reisi at all? It isn't as if the city is so large that they can’t ever encounter each other. They used to run into each other so many times in the past. Does the fact that Reisi has yet to catch a glimpse of him after all these years mean that Suoh is avoiding him now?

 

The questions plague him all week. Some part of Reisi never wants to see Suoh again. He’s terrified of how it will play out if it happens. Seeing Fushimi happy with Yata had forcibly reminded Reisi of how unlikely that would ever work out for him. Everyone else has their happy ending. Suoh’s happy ending would hardly involve him. He is likely with Kusanagi Izumo and Tatara Totsuka and rest of HOMRA.

 

The other part of Reisi yearns desperately to see Suoh once more, if only for some form of closure. It’s not love, just a lingering obsession for the Red King. He cannot – should not – be still in love with the person who had so easily put him aside.

 

The struggle between his conflicting feelings is meaningless, though, as long as he doesn’t know Suoh’s own feelings. He becomes increasingly convinced that Suoh cares nothing for him as the months pass by - if he really wants to see Reisi, he would seek him out, after all – until one day, Suoh steps into the bar Reisi is drinking at one evening.

 

It had just been a coincidence - Suoh had said as much, and yet Reisi can't help but think it can only be destiny. At then he had felt angry with himself for holding onto such unrealistic ideas. A lifetime ago he had felt drawn to Suoh, and had excused it for something as silly as the loneliness of a King. But now he has no excuses left. He can’t deny his own feelings. If he truly wants to be with Suoh, he will have to cling to him and hope he won’t be shaken off.

 

For most part, Suoh only seems to humor him. Sometimes he does things - like asking Reisi to move in with him - that make Reisi's heart leap with hope, but it is barely evidence to indicate any conclusive feelings for him. Suoh never shares anything with him and keeps his life decidedly separate. He says very little to Reisi, and he still spends most of his time with Kusanagi and Totsuka.

 

Reisi knows he has to resign himself to whatever it is they have. It is no different from how they've been before – something that had to be kept in the dark. And it’s fine like that. Reisi _is_ happy with what little he can get - the quiet moments enveloped in Suoh's warmth, the rainy mornings spent sleeping in, the caustic bickering over drinks. He had missed being with Suoh so fiercely. He had never experienced this a lifetime ago – the blissful dream of having someone by his side. There is no one else in the world who gets him like Suoh. Suoh is the only one who tolerates him, and it is half-hearted at best. Reisi sometimes wonders if he’ll wake up one day in his old apartment, surrounded by nothing but books; that this is all just in his head.

 

He just knows it isn't something meant to last. One day Suoh will get tired of him and leave, and Reisi will just have to accept it. Suoh will always have HOMRA by his side; they are intrinsically linked, more of a family than a clan. He, on the other hand, has always been an outsider. Reisi knows what it’s like to be alone, even when people surround him. He wonders if he can return to that life once Suoh leaves.

 

It’s a fear that preys on him even more since moving into Suoh's apartment - the idea that he will have to physically remove himself from Suoh one day makes him feel nauseous. The apartment feels like home, though Reisi considers it Suoh's property in his mind. It’s not his place, and it never will be, no matter how long they stay together.

 

" - Munakata-san?"

 

Reisi looks up, badly startled. "Yes?" He says, smiling to cover up his loss of composure.

 

Fushimi frowns at him across the library table. "Have you been listening to me at all?"

 

Reisi attempts an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid not," he apologizes. Perhaps if he had listened to Fushimi a long time ago, he could have avoided all this. Fushimi had warned him, hadn’t he? It isn’t as if Reisi is being deliberately obstinate. He knows perfectly well that Suoh does not have any feelings for him. He had no delusions since the very beginning.

 

He has always been nothing but a means to Suoh, anyway.

 

Fushimi just clicks his tongue, annoyed at Reisi's absent-mindedness. "I was asking if you finished making the notes from last week's readings." This semester Reisi is fortunate to share several classes with Fushimi, so Reisi finds himself spending more time in the library with him. Fushimi doesn’t seem to mind his presence too much as long as Reisi pulls his own weight. It’s a convenient arrangement for them to be work partners; Fushimi tolerates him, at least.

 

It's hardly any different from how he is with Suoh.

 

Reisi slides his notebook over to Fushimi, wishing he could stop thinking about it. He doesn’t want his thoughts to dwell on Suoh any longer. He’s accustomed to not thinking about him when he’s at school. No one knows Reisi is with him beyond Awashima and Fushimi. Reisi prefers it that way. He gets enough disapproval from both of them when it comes to Suoh.

 

Like Awashima, Fushimi favors looking forward. He has little to no contact to anyone from his past, though Reisi doesn’t know if it’s out of bitterness or just plain indifference. He rarely interacts with SCEPTER4, though they often invite him to join them. He also doesn't spend time at the HOMRA café. The only person he keeps in his life from before is Yata Misaki. At least that one thing hasn’t changed.

 

Fushimi impatiently reaches for his notebook, flipping through the pages. He pauses at the most recent page, frowning. The writing trails off in the middle of a word. Reisi feels the heat rise up in his cheeks, embarrassed by his own carelessness. He had been unable to finish his notes because Suoh had abruptly hauled him up to bed last night. “I apologize,” he says quickly, taking the notebook away from Fushimi’s hands. “It seems that I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

 

Fushimi looks up at him, cradling his face in his hand in a bored manner. “Munakata-san, you’ve been out of it all day,” Fushimi accuses. Reisi affects a careless laugh.

 

“I’ve simply been distracted by certain things, that’s all,” he says vaguely, waving it away. He looks down – he’s barely gotten any studying done the entire afternoon.

 

“Well if you’re not going to be useful maybe you should just leave,” Fushimi says bluntly. “We can continue tomorrow.” He starts packing up his things. Reisi sighs ruefully – Fushimi has never been one to waste time. Reisi grabs his belongings and together they walk out of the library. Yata’s not here to pick Fushimi up today, something that Reisi is thankful for. He always feels something ugly like jealousy when he sees them together, which in turn makes him feel worse. He knows Fushimi deserves happiness, just as Awashima does. They deserve this second chance. It’s not their fault Reisi is unfortunate in his own personal relationships.

 

“You’re really lucky to have Yata-san,” he muses out loud. Fushimi’s footsteps screech to a halt, and he turns to Reisi with suspicious bewilderment on his face. Sensing the sincerity in Reisi’s statement, though, his expression softens.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “I am.” He nods goodbye and walks off to the other direction, leaving Reisi to make his way to Suoh’s apartment.

 

Halfway down the street, Reisi realizes that he doesn't want to go there and face Suoh. He would never call himself a coward, but he doesn't know what to say to Suoh at the moment. But where could he possibly go? He doesn't have his old apartment anymore. Perhaps he can stay in a motel room for tonight. He can also go to the bar, but he has morning classes tomorrow. He can’t afford to wake up with a hangover.

 

His options are extremely limited. He wishes there was someone who could confide into about this, but the only person he tentatively considers a friend is Awashima, and he certainly does not want to burden her with this problem. Awashima has never offered her opinion in regards to his dalliances with Suoh Mikoto. It goes unacknowledged between them, just like her mystery fiance. Feelings are not something Reisi can imagine consulting with her.

 

The only person he’s ever openly discussed his feelings with Suoh is Fushimi, and that had been a lifetime ago, and under the influence of alcohol.

 

_Fushimi._

Reisi stops mid-step. Perhaps he can ask Fushimi for a favor. The chances of Fushimi agreeing to help him out are low, but Reisi can think of no other person who can help him out in his predicament.He can at least ask. If Fushimi turns him away, then he’ll worry about his contingency plan. He’s fortunate that he once had an overnight studying session at Fushimi’s apartment – at least Reisi already knows where he lives.

 

He makes his way to Fushimi’s building and locates the specific apartment room with ease, thanks to his reliable memory. He knocks on the door with trepidation. After what seems like an eternity, the door finally opens. Fushimi peers out from the crack, looking annoyed. “Munakata-san?” Fushimi straightens up, his eyebrows furrowed. He opens up the door wider, making Reisi a little more hopeful for his chances.

 

"Fushimi-san," he says with his most charming smile. Not that it works on Fushimi, anyway. "Would you please allow me to stay over at your place tonight?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be on August 10, because I am trying to regularly update something for once. Feel free to bother me on tumblr if the update doesn't come to pass.


	3. Chapter 3

Saruhiko rinses the rice grains before putting them into the rice cooker, glad to have something perfunctory to do while his unexpected guest is inside his apartment. From the kitchen he can see Munakata sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by books.

 

Munakata had claimed a need to finish writing his notes; Saruhiko has heard of flimsier excuses. Munakata has been distracted the entire day, and Saruhiko has a sneaking suspicion on what’s bothering him. There’s only one person who can disturb Munakata’s concentration, after all.

 

He wonders what Suoh Mikoto has done this time.

 

It’s not like Munakata confides in Saruhiko – in fact, Saruhiko wouldn’t want anyone to confide to him; he has enough problems of his own – but his previous King can be transparent with his expressions. Perhaps it’s just a side effect of being his Clansman; Awashima is able to read Munakata easily as well. Together they can infer good days from bad days even from the subtle twitch of Munakata’s lips. Usually Munakata is irritated for trivial reasons that Saruhiko learns about from Misaki later in the evenings – his boyfriend still chatters on and on about his precious Mikoto, no matter how much Saruhiko wishes he wouldn’t – but today it doesn’t seem to be just simple annoyance. Munakata’s eyes are downcast and his lips are tightly drawn.

 

The last time he had looked like that, it had been the day of the Ashinaka incident, just before he had ordered SCEPTER4 to charge into the school.

 

Saruhiko slams the lid down on the rice cooker with more force than necessary. He doesn’t like remembering the past. There’s no point in clinging to it at all.

 

Misaki doesn’t let go of it, of course. Misaki’s not good at letting go and moving on, something Saruhiko would have openly detested if it weren’t for the fact that if Misaki hadn’t been so insistent on holding on, they wouldn’t be together right now.

 

Three years ago, he had met Misaki again.

 

Back then he had kept to himself, dismissive of people and the world in general. His memories of the past had left him confused and alienated from everyone around him. He had hated it - he hadn’t asked to remember all these things about some stupid lifetime about Kings, about some stupid boy whom he had loved so fiercely it turned into something ugly. It’s like being told by his brain that he would be incapable of loving someone, anyone, as strongly as that ever again. Saruhiko had doubted that such a person like Yata Misaki existed – and even if he had, would he even still want to be with Saruhiko?

 

And then one day, he came face-to-face with him in the middle of a street intersection. For five seconds, Saruhiko had stood there in the middle of the pedestrian crossing, rooted to the ground in shock. Across him, the same surprise was mirrored in Misaki's face. Clearly he never expected to see Saruhiko, either.

 

"Yata-san!" A familiar dark-skinned figure bumbles behind Misaki. Instantly the spell is broken; Saruhiko feels his shock twist into sick anger. _Of course._ Misaki would still be with them, wouldn't he? He's not anyone to Misaki anymore. Abruptly he walks past them, crossing over to the other side of the street. Never in his life has he ever wanted to break into a run until that moment.

 

"Oi! Saruhiko!" Misaki's hurried footsteps follow his, and a hand grabs at his shoulder, forcing him to turn back and face the stranger he dreamed of endlessly. His ex-best friend; the one person he loves in the world. "Don't fucking run away from me!"

 

Saruhiko shoves him away. "I'm not running away, Mi~sa~ki," he hisses, the name falling easily from his tongue. "I'd just rather not waste my time with useless people like you." He casts a contemptuous glance at Kamomoto's way, who is stranded on the other side of the street because of the change in the stoplights. The sight of him reminds Saruhiko how much he hates him - him and every single one who's taken Misaki away from him. "You’re still with them, aren’t you? HOMRA? Still playing heroes? You’re not anything anymore, you know.”

 

Misaki's eyes are blazing with fury, and Saruhiko grins, anticipating the punch. But instead Misaki says, "We’re not nothing," and the strange calmness in his tone unnerves Saruhiko.

 

"What?"

 

“We’re a Clan,” Misaki says. “We always have been. We’re family, even in this new life. Why else would we all remember?”

 

Saruhiko scoffs at such naïve thinking. “If that’s the case then, why do _I_ remember?” he says.

 

“Then maybe you’re family too,” Misaki says, and he grabs both of Saruhiko's wrists. "Come with us. Please.”

 

“No,” Saruhiko replies automatically, because if there’s one thing he hates more than HOMRA, it’s how Misaki wants him to be part of HOMRA. It makes him sick, how Misaki wants him to be part of his _family._ Saruhiko wants to be the only person in Misaki’s universe. The word for that isn’t family at all.

 

But Misaki refuses to let go of him. “I'm not going back without you." His face is set with determination. "I'm not going to let you leave me behind again."

 

"You're the one who left first," Saruhiko retorts.

 

Misaki opens his mouth, likely to argue, but he shuts it again. "Do you really think that?" he says, the anger gone from his eyes. For some reason it makes Saruhiko more furious.

 

"Yes," he hisses with as much venom as he can muster.“You left me the moment you insisted we join HOMRA. You know I didn’t want to do it.”

 

Misaki looks at him. “You never said anything,” he says, and the look of betrayal on his face makes something in Saruhiko’s chest twist.

 

“It’s because you’re an idiot who never notices anything,” Saruhiko mutters, and he pulls away from Misaki’s slack grasp.

 

“That’s not true,” Misaki protests, and this time it's Saruhiko's hand he reaches for. The warmth of his hand in his sends a shiver down Saruhiko's spine. He's not accustomed to being touched so earnestly. When he opens his mouth to argue, though, Misaki squeezes his hand. "Okay, maybe it is true. Then I'm sorry."

 

Saruhiko stares at him, so shocked that he actually stops struggling."You're not supposed to apologize," Saruhiko says. Misaki's supposed to hate him.

 

“Why not?” Misaki looks up at him. “I did something wrong, didn’t I?”

 

“You did everything wrong,” Saruhiko says, incensed. “But you’re not supposed to be sorry. You’re never sorry.”

 

“Well I am now!” Misaki snaps. The anger is so much more familiar than the calm, rational Misaki, and Saruhiko finds himself relaxing, enjoying this again. The backhanded attention only Misaki could give him.“You’re not fair, Saruhiko,” he says in a quieter tone. “You won’t ever forgive me so that I won’t ever forgive you. But I won’t let you do that. I’m going to make things okay between us, this time.” His grip is tight on Saruhiko's hands; so tight it's going to leave a mark, the way Saruhiko prefers it. “All I want is for us to be friends again.”

Every word Misaki utters is like a slap on his face. “And what do you intend to do?” Saruhiko asks mockingly. “I don’t want to be friends with you anymore. Ever.”

 

Misaki's mouth hangs open, his eyes wide in shock. It's the same expression he had made when Saruhiko had told him he was leaving HOMRA. It's flattering to know he still has all the words to hurt Misaki in one go.

 

He turns away; their conversation is over. Maybe this time he can walk away for good, and resign himself to a lifetime without chasing Yata Misaki.

 

"Do you really mean that?" Misaki's voice is small. Saruhiko doesn't turn to look.

 

"Of course I do," he says steadily. "I always mean what I say."

 

"That's not true." There's an angry conviction in Misaki's words that makes Saruhiko's head turn. "That's not true," Misaki repeats, his hands clenched into fists. "Sometimes I don't want to believe you because you've stopped being honest with me before you left HOMRA," he continues.

 

"You said I never notice anything but I noticed that much - you were my best friend," he says, and there's a hysterical tone to it that Saruhiko has never heard before. "And I always thought I understood you best, but then it turned out I didn't understand you at all. Or were you misleading me intentionally? I just want us to be honest with each other." He reaches out and tugs on the hem of Saruhiko's sleeve. "At least tell me why you don't want to be my friend anymore."

 

Saruhiko touches the hand gripping his sleeve, carefully prying it away. "You won't understand," he says softly.

 

"Try me," Misaki says.

 

Saruhiko is afraid to look at Misaki's face, so he focuses on the trembling hand on his palm instead. There are so many things he wants to say, and he had let a lifetime pass them by. He doesn't think he can survive another one bottling this all up. "You are the only person in the world who matters to me." He lets Misaki's hand go. "I hate it, every time you're with someone else. You're the only one I need, so I should be the only one you need. I don't want anyone else. Do you understand that, Misaki - you are the only person in the whole wide universe who needs to exist for me. Everyone else can go to hell." He laughs a little at that, surprised how easy it is to let all the words come tumbling out.

 

He glances back at Misaki. This time it's just pure shock written all over his face. Saruhiko grits his teeth, frustration welling up in him again. Misaki had no idea of his feelings at all.

 

"I told you you wouldn't understand," he says dully. "That's just like you, Misaki." He laughs again. "Now do you understand why we can't be friends anymore?"

 

\--

 

Yata rings the doorbell impatiently, wishing he could knock on the door. He’d call out for Saruhiko too, but the last time he had done that the neighbor had stuck their head out and glared at him ominously. “Come on, Saruhiko, hurry up and open the damn door,” he mutters. Saruhiko refuses to give him a key to his apartment, claiming to need his own space. Yata isn’t going to disagree with that, but he hopes it’s a wall he’ll be able to scale someday. It's not like he wants to live with Saruhiko - that is a step that Yata imagines to be somewhere in the far future - but he'd settle for a little more trust. His entire relationship with Saruhiko is a slow concession; it's never going to be like it was before and Yata is fine with that. He's fine with anything as long as he can always stay by Saruhiko's side.  

 

The door finally opens, but it isn’t Saruhiko on the other side. “What are you doing here?” Yata blurts out, staring at Munakata Reisi.

 

Munakata’s face is blank before breaking into a little smile. "I’m just borrowing a few books from Fushimi-san," he replies smoothly.

 

"Munakata-san, who is-" Munakata opens the door wider, and Yata catches sight of Saruhiko scowling behind the kitchen counter. "Misaki," he says, his expression visibly softening, and he bustles out of the kitchen, taking off his apron. "What's up?"

 

Yata wants to say, "I don't know, I just wanted to see my boyfriend," but that would sound petty and jealous and he's not jealous. So instead he says "I just wanted to drop by," and he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. In his bag is the early release of Saruhiko’s favorite game, the one he spent three hours lining up for earlier. But now doesn’t seem like a good time to mention it.

 

Saruhiko blinks, clearly taken aback. "Oh. Well, I'm making dinner," he says. “Come on in.” Yata stands there at the doorway, unsure of what to do. Munakata is already striding back inside the room. There are books strewn all over the floor. Yata doesn't think it's a good idea to interrupt them - Saruhiko prefers to be wholly focused on his work, and no doubt Munakata is the same. Yata had only wanted to surprise Saruhiko.

 

“You’re probably busy,” he says instead. “I should go."

 

Saruhiko sighs. He steps outside of the apartment, closing the door behind them with a soft click. “What’s wrong?” He asks, folding his arms.

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Yata insists. Saruhiko frowns at him. “You’re the one who said we should always be honest with each other,” he points out crisply, and Yata winces. He had said that before, but mostly in an effort to get Saruhiko to actually tell him what went wrong a lifetime ago. And it had worked; Saruhiko had told him exactly what he had felt. It had taken Yata completely by surprise - he never would have imagined Saruhiko thought of him that way. It had been terrifying too - he had never been in love with anyone like that. 

 

But the more he had thought about it, the more it didn't seem like such a big deal at all. Yata had been determined to make everything okay between them. If they couldn't be friends anymore, due to Saruhiko's feelings, then surely they could be boyfriends, right?

 

Totsuka had laughed outright when he had said that to him. But then he also patted him kindly on the head, and told him to go with what his heart was telling him, "Because life is too short not to do everything you want," he had said. And Yata believes that. He has this second lifetime to fix things, and he's not going to waste it.

 

Saruhiko had been skeptical when Yata had told him all that. "That's not how it works at all," he had said, looking annoyed.

 

"Then how does it work?" Yata pouts.

 

Saruhiko heaves a sigh. "You make it sound like it's so simple," he says.

 

"And you want to make it so complicated," Yata retorts. "You're in love with me. Right?" Saruhiko glares at him. "And I want to be in love with you. So it all works out!"

 

"Come back when you decide you're actually in love," Saruhiko says sarcastically. They're sitting behind the dumpster of Saruhiko's high school - Saruhiko apparently cuts classes often, and Yata had spotted him by chance. Saruhiko had given him the stink-eye, but Yata had refused to leave him alone. It had been eerily reminiscent of how they became friends in the first place.

 

Yata frowns. "But I don't know what it feels like. I do want to be with you all the time," he says. "Is that how you feel?"

 

Saruhiko covers his face with his hands. "You're annoying," he mutters. Yata hovers in front of him, but Saruhiko refuses to look up. "Has it occurred to you that I might not feel that way anymore?"

 

Yata taps his chin, mulling over that possibility. "It doesn't matter," Yata declares. "I'll just have to make you fall in love with me again." He grins, and this time Saruhiko actually shoves him in the head.

 

Speaking of which, Saruhiko looks like he's going to shove Yata in the head if he doesn't answer any time soon. "You didn't tell me Munakata-san was coming over," Yata eventually replies. "I mean it's not like you have to. I'm just - " He tugs his beanie down. "I guess I'm a little jealous," he finally says.

 

When he looks up, Saruhiko's covering his mouth with his hand, and his face is redder than usual. "There's no point in being jealous of anyone," he says. "You're the only one I like. You know that."

 

"I do!" Yata says. "I just can't help it, that's all." He grins. "It happens when you love someone, right?"

 

Saruhiko clicks his tongue. "Don't be dumb. Jealousy only happens when you're unsure of your partner's feelings."

 

"So you're not jealous of HOMRA anymore?" Yata asks curiously, and Saruhiko scowls at him, and flicks him in the forehead. "Ow!"

 

"Anyway, it's nearly dinnertime," Saruhiko says. "You sure you won't stay?"

 

Yata shakes his head. "Nah. I don't want to bother you. I'll come by some other time." He gets up on his tiptoes and kisses Saruhiko in the cheek. "Bye!"

 

\--

 

Saruhiko absent-mindedly rubs his cheek as he stares vacantly at his empty bowl, contemplating if he should get another cup of rice.

 

"Sorry," Munakata apologizes unexpectedly.

 

Saruhiko sighs. "What for?"

 

Munakata waves his chopsticks in the air, making a little gesture. "For taking your time away from Yata-san."

 

"It's just one night," Saruhiko grumbles, though he already regrets allowing Munakata to stay over. And Misaki had come to surprise him, too. Misaki is pretty spontaneous most of the time, but he never shows up out of the blue without at least messaging. "Besides, you need time away from Mikoto-san anyway."

 

Munakata's smile flickers, and Saruhiko resists the urge to sigh. He had told him a long time ago, hadn't he? Munakata never learned.

 

Saruhiko pushes his bowl away. "Are you ever going to tell me what you fought about?"

 

"We didn't exactly fight," Munakata says, and Saruhiko snorts. "Yeah, you're just hiding out in my apartment for no reason."

 

"I'd simply rather not see his face right now," Munakata says. "And I highly doubt he wants to see me, either." He makes a mournful sound. Saruhiko stills himself, knowing how dramatic Munakata can be. He doesn't want his impatience to betray in his expression, but they've finished eating and frankly, Saruhiko doesn't want this elephant in the room any longer than necessary.

 

"He told me we should get married," Munakata finally says, and Saruhiko's eyes widen.

 

"I merely assumed it was some throwaway line," he continues. "But apparently he's quite serious about it. I - " he makes a helpless gesture. "I don't know what he was thinking. It was entirely out of the blue. I don't - I have always considered our relationship to be a casual thing. I told him as much. He didn't take it very well." Munakata bites his lip. "I don't understand him at all, Fushimi-san."

 

Saruhiko leans back on his chair. Today is just full of surprises, apparently. He has never imagined Suoh to be the marrying type. But then again he has also never imagined him being in a relationship with Munakata, either.

 

Their Captain's feelings for the Red King had been a hushed rumor in SCEPTER4, one that became completely taboo after the Ashinaka incident. Munakata had been obviously affected, no matter how normal he attempted to portray himself. Saruhiko knew he was miserable, and even though he had never openly commiserated with him, Saruhiko had felt pity for him. Munakata didn't have many close friends, after all. Saruhiko had never wanted to be his friend, either, but Munakata had latched onto him after one ill-fated night of emotional crying.

 

That night had confirmed Saruhiko's suspicions on Munakata's feelings for Suoh Mikoto. Clearly Munakata still hasn't gotten over him until now. But as far as Saruhiko is concerned. Suoh doesn't share the same feelings at all.

 

It isn't as if the Red King has drastically changed in this lifetime. Saruhiko rarely interacts with Suoh Mikoto nowadays; he keeps his interactions with HOMRA to a bare minimum. If he could never see them again, Saruhiko would be perfectly fine with that. They only bring back bad memories. But Misaki adores his friends, and Saruhiko is loath to lose him a second time. So he grits his teeth and tries his best to be civil when they're around.

 

None of them had changed at all. Saruhiko's sure that extends to their feelings. He props his chin with his hand. "Munakata-san, you remember what I told you before, right?"

 

Munakata nods slowly. "How could I forget," he says, with a bitter smile.

 

"Then you probably know what I'm going to say," Saruhiko says.

 

" 'I told you so' or something to that effect?"

 

Saruhiko clicks his tongue in reply. Munakata chuckles, and moves to stand up. "Thank you for letting me stay here tonight," he says earnestly. "I really appreciate it."

 

"It's fine," Saruhiko says. "But I'm not letting you stay over again tomorrow."

 

Munakata shakes his head, smiling. "Don't worry," he says. "I just need some time to think before I see Suoh again." Together they clear up the table, and afterwards Saruhiko gives him an extra futon to lie in. Saruhiko heads to his room, leaving Munakata to read his books.

 

He wonders what Munakata will do, this time around.

 

\--

 

"Yo!" Yata greets energetically as he enters the HOMRA cafe through the back door. To his surprise, no one greets him back. He looks around; the cafe is devoid of customers, and the closed sign is hanging on the front door. Yata frowns; Kusanagi rarely closes down the cafe. "What's wrong?" Then he spots Mikoto glumly lying on the couch, his arm over his face. Anna, who is sitting beside him, looks up at Yata with admonishing eyes, and Yata blanches. He slinks off to the counter, where Kusanagi is polishing the mugs.

 

"What's up with Mikoto-san?" he asks curiously, lowering his voice. Kusanagi gives him a little smile.

 

"He's just feeling a little down right now," he says. A few moments later, they hear excited footsteps and Totsuka comes barreling down from the second floor, holding a stack of photo albums. "Look, King!" he says cheerfully. "We can go look at our old photos for fun!" Mikoto grunts in reply. He grudgingly sits up and Totsuka takes the seat beside him. The three of them flip over the photos, their heads bent together. The sight of them makes Yata smile; even until now, little moments like this still give him a warm feeling. HOMRA is always going to be family to him, after all.

 

Kusanagi clears his throat. "Speaking of which, Yata, weren't you going to go to your boyfriend's place?"

 

Yata feels his good mood crash. "I did, but it turns out he's busy with someone else," he mutters.

 

From the couch, Totsuka raises his head. "Someone else?"

 

"Munakata-san," Yata explains. Mikoto visibly straightens up at the name, and the room's temperature seems to drop by several degrees.

 

"What about him?" Mikoto says, his voice deadpan.

 

"He's staying over at Saruhiko's," Yata says. Mikoto's expression changes, for a brief instant. For a moment Yata remembers the heat and rage of the Red King, and it swirls all over the air before coming to an abrupt stop. Mikoto pushes himself off the couch.

 

"I'm going to sleep," he announces, and he stalks up the stairs. Yata frowns; Mikoto hasn't slept in the guest room there in forever, not since he moved in with Munakata.

 

He looks at Anna, who's still quietly looking over at photos. "Did he fight with Munakata-san?" he asks quietly. Anna shrugs. "He won't say anything," she says.

 

"Not even to me," Totsuka adds, sighing. "I wonder what happened." He picks up a photo and examines it closely.

 

"I can't even imagine what they would fight about," Kusanagi wonders out loud. Yata glances back at him; he's put the washcloth down and lit a cigarette. "I always thought things seemed to be going well for them."

 

Totsuka shrugs. "Sometimes relationships have cracks we can't see," he says gravely. Then he laughs at himself. "But I'm sure everything will work out fine anyway."

 

Kusanagi takes a puff from his cigarette. "Yeah, if Yata was able to make things work out with Fushimi, anything is possible."

 

"Hey!" Yata protests amid their laughter. Even Anna has a small smile on. He folds his arms. "We fought a lot too, back in the early days!"

 

"But you were able to get through all of those, right?" Totsuka smiles.

 

Yata nods. "Well, all but one," he mutters to himself. Sensing that there's no point in hanging around in the cafe, what with Mikoto's current mood, Yata decides to head home to the apartment he shares with Kamamoto. His roommate is already sleeping when he gets back, so Yata crawls to his bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, thinking over his relationship with Saruhiko.

 

Ever since they had chosen to be as honest with each other as possible, their arguments were often about the things they disliked about each other. Saruhiko ruthlessly lists many things it's a wonder he can claim to be in love. Sometimes all he ever does is complain about Yata's imperfections. Yata knows how easily Saruhiko gets irritated, so he tries his best not to let it get to him. The one that they fight about the most, though, is about HOMRA.

 

"I don't want you to be with HOMRA," Saruhiko tells him, half a year after they start dating. Yata's well aware of how much Saruhiko dislikes HOMRA; he purses his lips whenever they're around. The only one he seems to like in HOMRA is Anna. But Yata has never imagined Saruhiko would ask him to leave HOMRA.

 

Yata frowns. "Well that's not going to happen," he says. "They're my friends, Saruhiko." He sets his jaw.

 

"I thought you said you wanted to be with _me,_ " Saruhiko says.

 

Yata slams his hands on the table. "I do! But you're not the only person in my universe. I can't be like you, Saruhiko - I can't have only one person in my life to be happy."

 

"So you're saying I don't make you happy enough," Saruhiko says, rising.

 

"No!" Yata clenches his fists. "I'm saying we're two different people and you have to understand that. I love you. You do make me happy; I can't be with anyone else but you. I'm sure of that."

 

"But?" Saruhiko says, folding his arms.

 

"But I can't give up HOMRA for you." Yata looks him straight in the eye. "I won't give up HOMRA for anyone."

 

"So if you had to choose between me and HOMRA you'd choose them," Saruhiko says hollowly.

 

"That's not it either," Yata says. "If they asked me to stop seeing you I'd hit them all in the head with a baseball bat." He puts his hand in Saruhiko's, squeezing it. "Both you and HOMRA are the most important people to me. I'm not giving either of you up. Please understand that." His voice is pleading.

 

Saruhiko sighs. "I'm never going to like them," he mutters.

 

"I'm not asking you to," Yata says patiently. "You don't even have to see them if you don't want to. Just don't ask me to choose, because I can't."

 

That had been the last time they talked about it, but Yata can always feel it lurking around whenever he runs into a HOMRA member when he's with Saruhiko. It's the only shadow in their relationship.

 

He wonders if there's something like that hanging around Mikoto and Munakata. Yata doesn't know much about their relationship - Mikoto keeps their relationship private - but he sincerely hopes they'll be able to get through it. He doesn't like anyone in HOMRA, especially Mikoto, being unhappy.

 

The following morning, Yata rings the doorbell at Saruhiko's apartment again, more subdued than last time. When the door opens, Yata's relieved that it's Saruhiko who opens it. "Misaki?" he asks, blearily, rubbing his eyes. He was sleeping in again, Yata thinks, with a grin. Yata lets himself in and closes the door behind him, and then he catches Saruhiko with a kiss. Saruhiko stumbles back, clearly surprised, but he kisses back anyway.

 

"Well, that was unexpected," Saruhiko says when they finally break apart. Yata has gently pushed him on the couch and now he's straddling him.

 

"What, you don't like it?" Yata scoffs, moving to stand up. Saruhiko rolls his eyes and puts his hand on Yata's nape, pushing his face close to his.

 

"I didn't say that, did I?" and this time he initiates the kiss. Yata sighs into it, feeling contented again. He had wanted to do this yesterday, but Munakata's presence clearly forbade it.

 

"Munakata left already?" Yata asks. Saruhiko nods. "He has class this morning," he explains.

 

"And he's not…" Yata cautiously looks around the apartment, and Saruhiko snorts.

 

"He has a place of his own," Saruhiko says. "Besides, a day without being with you is already too much."

Yata grins. "So," he says mischievously. Saruhiko catches his meaning instantly.

 

He raises his eyebrows.  "You're eager so early in the morning," he murmurs, as he pulls off Yata's shirt in one quick move.

 

"It's ten in the morning, idiot," Yata huffs, combing his hands through Saruhiko's hair. He leans in to kiss him in the collarbone as he fiddles with Saruhiko's shirt buttons. "Besides, we could have done this last night."

 

Saruhiko gives him a predatory smirk. "Then I guess we should make up for lost time."

 

\--

 

Half an hour later, they're both lying on Saruhiko's bed, their legs intertwined together. "So did he tell you what they fought about?" Yata asks, one arm looped around Saruhiko's waist. He never thought Saruhiko would be one for post-coital cuddles, but it turned out he was very fond of physical affection, especially in private. Saruhiko prefers Yata to be rough when touching him, but Yata isn't very comfortable with that. He wants to be gentle as he possibly can. It's another thing they have a few arguments about.

 

One thing they agree on, though - lying together after sex was the best. Yata likes how it makes them seem like one giant being, mishmashed together. He finds Saruhiko's palm and rubs it against his own.

 

"They?" Saruhiko asks absent-mindedly, his eyes closed even though his face is turned towards Yata. He has a little smile on. It's Yata's favorite expression of his; like he's happy without knowing it. Yata kisses him somewhere between his cheek and his mouth, and Saruhiko's eyes fly open in pleased surprise.

 

"Mikoto-san and Munakata-san," Yata murmurs gently, still kissing Saruhiko's face. He pulls away to look at Saruhiko in the face.

 

"Oh," Saruhiko says flatly, looking annoyed. Yata sometimes wonders what he thinks of the two of them dating. "How'd you-?"

 

"Mikoto-san stayed over at Homra last night," Yata explains. "Plus he didn't look so happy. I figured they might have fought over something."

 

Saruhiko scoffs. "Mikoto-san never looks happy," he says. Yata frowns. Saruhiko always seemed irritated when he mentioned Mikoto.

 

"That's not true," Yata counters. "He looks happy when he's with Munakata."

 

Saruhiko pulls his hand away from Yata. "How would you know?"

 

"I just do," Yata retorts. "I mean - he's not our King anymore, but he just…lightens up when he's around, I guess. He loves him, doesn't he?"

 

Saruhiko rolls over slightly, lying on his back so he's not facing Yata. "I don't know," he says.

 

"Well I know he does," Yata says, with conviction. "He wouldn't have moved in with him otherwise. Or stayed around so long. Mikoto-san looks like he'll drift away any moment, but Munakata is like his anchor."

 

Saruhiko sighs. "I would have thought he's like that with Totsuka-san or Kusangi-san," he says.

 

Yata props himself up on his elbow so he can survey Saruhiko's face. "That's different," he insists. "Friendship is different from love."

 

"How can you tell?" Saruhiko says softly, his eyes decidedly avoiding Yata's. "We were friends, and now, we're…" his voice trails off.

 

This time, Yata is the one who sighs loudly. "It's exactly because of that why I can tell," he says, and touches Saruhiko's cheek, turning it slightly to face him. "If he just wanted to be friends with him, he wouldn't have done any of those things at all."

 

Saruhiko sits up and looks at Yata seriously. "But what if he doesn't want to be friends at all?" he asks. "What if this was just a casual thing, and it didn't mean anything to Mikoto-san?"

 

Yata actually starts laughing. If Saruhiko thought that, he was completely wrong about Mikoto. "Mikoto-san would never do something if it didn't mean anything to him," he says, confidently. "Otherwise, why would he even bother?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to my really great friend [Nikki](http://worldcosplay.net/member/nicolebenelli/), who has been there for my mikorei feelings (and even indulged me in a partner cosplay for this ahaha ♥) for a long time. I miss you!! ;w; and I know you asked me to update this like a month ago so whoops. :'>

\--

 

After Misaki leaves, Saruhiko gets a cup of milk and thinks over what his boyfriend has told him.

 

On one hand, he still finds it hard to believe that Mikoto could love Munakata. Munakata isn't his type at all. But is it his own dislike for the Red King that's clouding his judgment? He's not one to make mistakes on his opinion on people - after all, he hates everyone equally - but Mikoto annoys him even more so than Totsuka.

 

Besides, Misaki thinks Mikoto can do no wrong. He's obviously the biased one here. Saruhiko drains his drink, rubbing his temples. Personally he wishes he never got involved in this. This is their problem, not his. He shouldn't even care.

 

His phone rings, and Saruhiko snatches it up. Munakata's cool baritone greets his ear.

 

"Munakata-san," he says wearily. His class must have ended already. "What is it?"

 

"Fushimi-san, I want to thank you for yesterday," Munakata says. "You've helped clear up a lot of things for me. I really appreciate it."

 

"You already thanked me this morning. I told you, it's nothing." Saruhiko feels the slightest stab of guilt as he says this. Munakata has clearly acted on his opinion. What if he's wrong all this time? "What are you going to do now?"

 

"I thought I'd talk to him," Munakata says. "I mean - it's not fair. We can't just sit around and ignore it forever."

 

"Hmm," Saruhiko says, absent-mindedly scratching the skin where his scar used to lay. It's a reflex he has yet to get rid of. He used to think it was weird, why the itch was always in that one spot. It made more sense after meeting Misaki. "You're meeting him now?"

 

"I have one more scheduled class, so I asked him to meet me after that."

 

"Did you figure out what you're going to say?" Saruhiko asks, surprised at his own audacity. He's curious, after all, but Munakata doesn't have to answer that question.

 

Munakata is silent on the other line. "No," he finally replies after a long pause. "But it's no good to head to a battle unprepared. I'll be thinking it over later. Thank you again." He hangs up the phone. Saruhiko clicks his tongue. Munakata obviously doesn't want to talk about it. It's none of his business, anyway.

 

He gets up. He knows where Munakata would ask Mikoto to meet him; he's seen Munakata head there after their library studying sessions. He's even encountered Mikoto there a couple of times; sleeping like a lout hours before he needs to meet Munakata. Saruhiko dislikes seeing someone who wastes so much of his time, but maybe now it'll work in Mikoto's favor.

 

He heads to the school gardens. True enough, he finds Mikoto napping on one of the benches. As Saruhiko approaches, his eyes open. Mikoto stares at him, his gaze burning. "Oh," he says. "It's you."

 

"Ah," Saruhiko greets, feeling self-conscious. He still hasn't gotten rid of the quiet fear in his stomach. It will never go away, his fear and awe of the Red King.

 

Mikoto sits up. "Did Munakata ask you to come here?" His eyes are narrowed, suspicious. Again Saruhiko wonders what so many people - Misaki and Munakata included - see in this person. Saruhiko can't find it in his heart to admire him at all.

 

"No," he admits, taking a seat on the same bench, though he's careful to put space between them. "I needed to talk to you."

 

Mikoto tilts his head. "What about?"

 

"I told Munakata-san you didn't love him," he says, uttering it like a confession. When he looks up, Mikoto's face is pale. Saruhiko suddenly remembers that even though Mikoto is not the Red King, he can probably still kill him if he wants to. Saruhiko digs his heels on the ground to keep his desire to bolt away running at bay.

 

He doesn't know what to expect. He most certainly does not expect Mikoto to sigh out loud, close his eyes and lean his head against the bench. After two minutes of silence, Saruhiko contemplates standing up to leave. He's said what he needed to say, after all. But just as he moves to go, Mikoto opens his mouth to speak. "Why?"

 

Why? Saruhiko turns to look at him in disbelief. Mikoto's head is tilted to face him, and his eyes aren't angry, just filled with curiosity. "Because I thought it was the truth," Saruhiko replies, as honestly as he can.

 

Mikoto lifts his head up, then folds his arms.  "I love him," he says, without missing a beat. "I don't know how I'm supposed to convince you or him of that fact, but I do."

 

"Maybe you could have, you know, told him," Saruhiko says, sarcastically. Mikoto gives him a look, saying _why would I need to tell him?_ "You might be a big fan of actions speak louder than words, Mikoto-san, but your actions have done nothing but confuse him."

 

"Why would he be confused?" Mikoto frowns. "We were _together._ Fucking hell, I even asked him to live with me, and he agreed. I don't understand what part of all that he would misunderstand."

 

"You literally forced him to kill you a lifetime ago," Saruhiko points out, annoyed at Mikoto's logic. It's like talking to Misaki all over again. "It would mess up anyone's understanding of your actions."

 

"I didn't ask him to kill me out of spite," Mikoto says, his voice rising.

 

"Well that's not what he thought," Saruhiko shoots back, defensive all of the sudden. He remembers how miserable the Blue King had been after Suoh Mikoto had died. Certainly he had blamed himself. Mikoto doesnt know about that part at all. "That's not what anybody else thought."

 

Mikoto looks at him. " _You_ thought that," he says slowly.

 

"As did everyone in Scepter4," Saruhiko says. "Look, Mikoto-san - not everyone knows what's going on in your head. You can't ask Munakata-san to magically know what you mean when you don't say anything. A relationship doesn't work without communication."

 

Unexpectedly, Mikoto laughs. "What makes you an expert all of the sudden?"

 

"You'd be surprised at how things between Misaki and me got better after talking," Saruhiko snaps, and Mikoto looks apologetic at that. Saruhiko heaves a sigh. "Mikoto-san, I'm not saying this for you, okay? Munakata-san likes you, a lot, for reasons I'm never going to fathom, and I actually want him to be happy."

 

"I know that," Mikoto says. "I mean, I know he likes me."

 

"Well then, I guess you should know he always thought you never felt the same way," Saruhiko says.

 

"Because of what _you_ told him," Mikoto reminds him, sounding petty for once.

 

Saruhiko scowls. "It's not like you did anything to disprove it," he hisses. "If you weren't giving him reason to believe in it, then maybe you could have avoided this whole mess." He clenches his fists. "I'm sorry," he says. "I only told him that because I thought it would make it easier for him when you eventually leave him. He's a good person, you know, and he deserves much more than you."

 

Mikoto actually flinches at that, and Saruhiko registers the hollow victory. But it isn't as if Munakata would ever stop loving this person. After all, he had been willing to settle for a casual relationship, even though he had known how fruitless it would be. All because he wants to be with Suoh Mikoto. It makes Saruhiko want to tear his hair out.

 

"He thought he meant nothing to you," Saruhiko adds.

 

Mikoto is quiet. Then he says, "All that time we were together?"

 

Saruhiko nods.

 

Mikoto turns his face upwards, his expression indiscernible from Saruhiko's perspective. "You know, he's the only person I knew I wanted to be with," he begins guardedly. "I knew it even before, but we couldn't be together then. We were Kings, after all." He laughs harshly. "That's why, this time, I asked him to marry me. I thought - I thought he felt the same way as me, all this time."

 

With some careful angling, Saruhiko sneaks a glance at Mikoto's expression. He looks so weary. The guilt crops up in him again, eating away whatever anger he has for Mikoto. "He does love you, you know," Saruhiko mumbles.

 

Mikoto shakes his head. "It doesn't mean anything if he thought I didn't love him," Mikoto says. "All this time I was trying to make up for the shit I made him go through, and then it turned out I was still making him go through shit for me. It's not fair. I thought I was making him happy. But he wasn't happy at all. And I didn't even _notice_." He laughs again. "You're right. He does deserve someone better than me."

 

Saruhiko bites his lip. "For what it's worth, he would have chosen you every time anyway," Saruhiko says. He stands up. "I don't know what he's going to say to you later. I just wanted you to know this before you two talked." It's the least he can do, after all. He doesn't want Munakata to be miserable.

 

Mikoto nods. "Thanks."

 

\--

 

Mikoto presses his forehead against the bench once Fushimi has left him alone. Fushimi's confession makes a lot of things fall into place - the way Munakata looks at him when he wakes up, like every morning is a miracle. The way he gets quiet when Mikoto tells him he has to leave, even for just a short while. How everything between them always feels like it's perched on a delicate wire, no matter how much Mikoto tries to convince himself that everything's okay between them.

 

All this time, Munakata had thought Mikoto didn't love him.

 

Mikoto had thought it was obvious, the way he felt. He had never said it out loud because he had thought it didn't need saying. He had asked Munakata to stay by his side, hadn't he?

 

But if Munakata has been convinced all this time that Mikoto didn't care for him at all, then Mikoto has no idea how he's supposed to get his feelings across.

 

Mikoto sighs out of frustration as he slumps against the bench. Fushimi's words echo in his head. _"Maybe you could have, you know, told him."_ Fushimi may have been scathing when he said all that, but he had a point.

 

"Suoh?" He looks up and Munakata's standing in front of him. He has a scarf wrapped around his neck and a styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand. The sight of him like this is achingly familiar, and for a second Mikoto doesn't know how to breathe. That's what it's been for the past year, hasn't it? He used to associate Munakata with the heart-pounding adrenaline rush of fighting an equal. But here, he is the quiet excitement mixed with contentment, an everyday satisfaction he's never known. With HOMRA he is at peace. With Munakata he's happy. He's learned to discern the difference by now. He reaches out to touch Munakata's free hand.

 

"I love you," Mikoto says, and the way Munakata's eyes widen in disbelief makes Mikoto despair of ever erasing the notion that Fushimi's given to Munakata. "I loved you when you were the Blue King. I loved you when I asked you to kill me, and when I saw you again here I still loved you. I thought - " he breaks off. "You're the only person I've ever wanted," he said. "And back then you were the one person I couldn't have.

 

"So this time I'm not letting you go," Mikoto says, firmly. "I love you." He raises his eyes to meet Munakata's. "Do you love me?"

 

"I - " Munakata flounders, his face red from the cold or from his confession, Mikoto's not quite sure. "You don't mean that," he says instead.

 

Mikoto stands up, and Munakata instinctively steps back. "I wouldn't ask you to marry me if I didn't," he states, squeezing Munakata's clammy hand. The gesture makes Munakata start, and he spills his coffee all over Mikoto.

 

"Fuck," Munakata says in a panic. "I'm sorry, Suoh -" he fumbles for his handkerchief, but Mikoto refuses to let his hand go. "Suoh!" he says again, this time more in annoyance.

 

"You haven't answered my question," Mikoto says, ignoring the sticky liquid seeping through his shirt.

 

Munakata heaves a sigh. "You're not letting me go until I do, won't you?" he says in resignation, and Mikoto finds himself quirking a grin at that. Munakata puts the half-empty coffee cup down on the park bench and sits beside it. He tugs on Mikoto's grip, and Mikoto willingly takes the seat beside him. With his newly freed hand, Munakata finds the handkerchief in his pocket and he uses it to mop up what he can from Mikoto's shirt. His hand is warm on Mikoto's skin. Mikoto lets his own hand settle on it, stopping him mid-movement. They're locked in a stalemate, and it's Munakata's turn to make a move.

 

"What do you want me to say?" Munakata says eventually. He's staring at Mikoto's chest, studiously avoiding his gaze.

 

Mikoto frowns. "Ideally, that you love me back," he says. "But I don't want you telling me anything that isn't the truth."

 

"So what would you do then, if I say I don't love you?"

 

"Then I guess I can't blame you for that." Mikoto sighs. "I'm a shitty person, after all."

 

"You are," Munakata agrees, still not looking at Mikoto. "You're selfish and insensitive and reckless and stubborn. You never listen to what people say and you always want things to go the way you want it. You," his voice cracks, "you're going to change your mind. You're going to regret this and I - " he bites his lip and lowers his head. His shoulders are shaking.

 

"I won't," Mikoto says. Munakata knows better than anyone that once he's made up his mind, there's no going back.

 

Munakata doesn't say anything. Mikoto sighs and lays his head on Munakata's shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent. He can't imagine not being with Munakata. It's something he's never even bothered to think about.

 

"I'm not going to leave you," Mikoto murmurs to Munakata's collarbones. "Unless you ask me to."

 

Munakata makes a noise that sounds like a sob. "Please don't say that."

 

Mikoto lifts his head. "Why?"

 

"Because if I ask you to stay - " Munakata hesitates, "Then I'll have no one but myself to blame when you go."

 

Mikoto nearly bites his tongue to keep himself from swearing. "Munakata, what the fuck do I have to do to convince you that I'm not going to leave you?" he demands.

 

Munakata shakes his head. He looks bewildered and just a touch resigned. "Maybe we should end this, after all," he says. "I can't stop feeling this way, Suoh. I - it's awful, but I simply can't believe you."

 

Every nerve in Mikoto's body goes numb. "You don't have to believe me right now," he says, the desperation creeping up in his voice. "Munakata, it's stupid as hell but I don't think I can -" _live without you,_ he wants to say, but it would be the wrong thing to say, especially with how it ended in their last lifetime. Already he can understand why Munakata is struggling so much to believe him. The same way he had predicted Munakata's actions, forcing him to take him out before his Sword fell - Munakata's thought processes have always been clear to him. He had thought his own thought processes were just as transparent to the Munakata; they had always understood each other perfectly, even though sometimes Munakata deliberately chose to deny it. Clearly he was wrong on that. He sighs, and releases both of Munakata's hands. Immediately Munakata folds them together tightly on his lap.

 

"You still haven't answered me," he reminds Munakata instead.

 

Munakata lets out a short huff of laughter. "I don't understand why you need to ask," he says. "Why do you think I stuck around for so long even though I knew you didn't feel the same way?"

 

\--

 

Reisi can feel his hands trembling. Suoh had told him he loved him. The idea had been so ludicrous to him that he still can't process it.

 

Had he been lying to himself all along? Could Suoh really have felt the same way all this time, and he had been simply been too closed off to the idea?

 

But no. He had always assumed whatever love Suoh was capable of, it was for other people, like Kusanagi Izumo, Totsuka Tatara and Kushina Anna. Those were the people dearest to his heart; Reisi had known better than to compete with them. If he could just have even the smallest part of Suoh to himself, then he was already fine with simply that. That they were attracted to each other is a fact that carried over to this lifetime, but an interest in a person can easily wane away over time. Desire is not a constant, and he isn't foolish enough to mistake it for love.

 

Suoh is still looking at him. He looks terrible; Reisi realizes with a start. He hasn't seen him look this tired at all in this lifetime. It's a subtle difference, but the lines in his eyes are less deep, and his ever-present smirk is more of a smile and less of a grimace. But now he just resembles the world-weary Red King.

 

Reisi has never wanted to make Suoh unhappy. He wants him to feel apologetic, on occasions, and perhaps guilty over the past, but never unhappy. If they stay together longer like this, Suoh is just going to wear that expression all the time, and Reisi can't bear that. He doesn't know how to make Suoh Mikoto happy at all. "I love you," he finally says. "But I can't marry you. Not when I feel this way."

 

"I know." Reisi winces at Suoh's words. It's odd, he thinks hollowly. The one time Suoh is finally agreeing with him, and it's devastating. Suoh is going to let him go, after all.

 

Maybe Reisi is sabotaging his own happiness.

 

"It's my fault," Suoh continues, and Reisi's mouth falls open. "I did this wrong. I didn't tell you how I felt, so all this time you didn't understand. I'm sorry."

 

Reisi's throat closes up. "It's not your fault," he tries to say, but Suoh shakes his head.

 

"If I had just been honest with you this could have gone differently," he says. "I'm acting just like Fushimi. We all know how badly that ended." He laughs wryly.

 

"They seem pretty happy to me," Reisi chokes out.

 

"I'd rather not wait for a third lifetime to fix things," Suoh says. "I'm as selfish as you said. Will you give me another chance?"

 

Reisi stares. Everything isn't going as he expected at all. He had wanted to talk to Suoh, to understand the reason for his proposal in the first place. He'd been planning to say no, anyway. But he had thought it would end at that. Mikoto never had a problem of letting go of things that were unimportant. Reisi had come to terms that this relationship was over; the train tracks had officially reached the end. This current outcome is nothing he could have predicted.

 

He shakes his head in mild bemusement. "I probably will," he says softly. In response, Suoh presses a gentle kiss on his forehead.

 

"I won't mess it up," Suoh tells him, the closest to a promise he has ever given Reisi. And then, softer, "I love you too."

 

Reisi shuts his eyes, his spine tingling from those simple words. It's horrifying, how much of an effect Suoh has on him.

 

When he opens them again, Suoh's looking straight at him, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "I'm going to keep saying it until you believe me," he says, almost threateningly. Reisi responds by bumping their heads together with a wry chuckle.

 

"You're a stubborn man, Suoh Mikoto," he says.

 

"You're just as stubborn as I am, Munakata Reisi," Suoh retorts. Their faces are so close; it's easy enough for Reisi to meet his lips for a kiss.

 

He's always counted every kiss in the back of his head, never sure which one would be the last. He's never had illusions of forever; it's shocking to think that between the two of them, it's Suoh who's the romantic.

 

They break apart and Reisi cups Suoh's face in his hands. "It might not work out," he says. Suoh opens his mouth, and Reisi shakes his head. "No, listen. For _once_." Suoh frowns but closes his mouth grudgingly. "We're too different; you have your friends and I have different ambitions. This lifetime isn't the same as before. Things aren't the same." He lets his hands slide down Suoh's shoulders. "But I love you," he says. "That won't ever change."

 

Suoh smiles at him. "Same."

 

Reisi rolls his eyes. "As for marriage-" Suoh visibly perks up. "Ask me again after I get my medical doctorate," he says.

 

Suoh frowns. "That's three years from now," he says.

 

Reisi smirks. "Then I guess you'll have to get used to waiting."

 

\--

 

It's been three weeks since Munakata has stayed over at Saruhiko's place, and Yata is relieved that it hasn't happened again. Mikoto also looks a lot happier whenever he's at the cafe. Totsuka even gets away with outrageous plans for Anna's thirteenth birthday, with only Kusanagi left to contradict him at every turn. Totsuka has most of HOMRA running around in ridiculous errands, including getting a roomful of roses shipped to the cafe.

 

Yata narrowly escapes being ordered around for another errand, leaving Bandou and Kamamoto to Totsuka's mercy instead. Saruhiko's exams have ended the week before, so he's not hanging out at the library today. Yata's relieved - he's always afraid he'll bump into a bookshelf or make too much noise. The librarians always glare at him when they see him pass by. But since it's one of Saruhiko's preferred places, Yata won't complain. He finds Saruhiko in one of his usual haunts - at the top of the steps going up the highest point of the city. People rarely pass there, which is probably why Saruhiko likes it. Yata goes up the stairs two at the time, taking care not to make any noise. When he finally reaches the top, he settles on the remaining step above Saruhiko and leans over to look at his view of his handheld console.

 

"Hey," he says, bumping against Saruhiko's shoulder with his knee. His boyfriend looks up at him, irritated at being disturbed.

 

"Totsuka's going all out for Anna's birthday this time," Yata reports. Saruhiko snorts, resting his head on Yata's chest. "As if he hasn't the past two years," he says. Every year Totsuka seems determined to outdo the previous year's party. It drives Kusanagi crazy every time. Anna loves it, though, which is the important thing.

 

Also, Anna's birthday is the one the few occasions Saruhiko agrees to be dragged to HOMRA, so it's one of Yata's favorite celebrations. This way he can be with all the people he loves in one moment.

 

"And Mikoto-san's looking a lot better, too," he adds. Saruhiko rolls his eyes. "Wonderful," he drawls, drawing his head away from Yata. "I'm so glad everything's worked out for him." His tone indicates otherwise.

 

"Don't be like that," Yata says, pulling up his knees up to his chest. "Everyone deserves a happy ending this time around."

 

Saruhiko clicks his tongue. "Happy endings? Really, Misaki? You're such a kid," he says. "It might seem happy now, but who knows if it'll stay like that in the future? They might not get married, anyway."

 

Yata moves down a step, so he can be face-to-face to Saruhiko this time. "So you knew that Mikoto-san proposed to him," he says slowly. He had meant to bring up the topic with Saruhiko anyway, just to see what he thought of it. Kusanagi had told him about it the other day. "Who knows if it might happen," he had said, though he had a smile on his face. "After all, Munakata hasn't accepted it just yet."

 

Saruhiko frowns at him. "Of course I knew," he says.

 

"Munakata-san told you?"

 

Saruhiko gives him a look that says _please stop asking stupid questions_. Yata just laughs nervously in his hands. "I just don't know what to make of it," he says. "Mikoto-san must be really serious about him. Marriage is such a big step."

 

"People still get divorced," Saruhiko points out. "It's no promise of a happy ending."

 

Yata sighs loudly. Saruhiko was never one for positive thinking. "What, you don't like marriages?"

 

"No," Saruhiko replies promptly.

 

"Oh." The little bubble of hope within Yata's heart is popped instantly by one word.

 

Saruhiko must have heard the disappointment in his voice. "Don't tell me you were going to do something stupid like asking me to marry you," he says, his tone even more irritated than usual. Yata glances at him; Saruhiko is adamantly looking at the opposite direction. His ears are tinged with red.

 

Yata can feel the blush creeping up his own neck. "Of course I won't!" he yelps, a little louder than he intends. Saruhiko whips his head back at him, scowling. "I mean at least not yet. You won't even give me the key to your apartment."

 

Saruhiko's face is even redder than his. "You have your own place with Kamamoto."

 

"I'm not saying I should move in! I just." Yata makes a gesture with his hand. "It's a step. For the two of us. You know," he emphasizes. Saruhiko puts his hand over Yata's mouth as he buries his face in his chest.

 

"Stop talking," he orders, his voice a pitch higher. "You're being so annoying, Misaki."

 

Yata puts his arms around Saruhiko, spreading his legs so he can pull him in closer for an awkward sitting down hug. It's difficult, since Saruhiko's taller than him, but they manage. They stay like that for a while; Yata listening to Saruhiko's breathing, Saruhiko refusing to even look at him. He's gotten a little used to his boyfriend being a little less honest than he promised he would be; to figure out if the annoyance in his tone is supposed to mean something else. And while Saruhiko is probably against marriages in general, maybe this could be the exception. Yata knows it's selfish of him, but it can't help to try.

 

"So," Yata says, leaning close to whisper in Saruhiko's ear. "If I did ask you to marry me, would you say yes?"

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end!! this was such a rollercoaster ride, I honestly didn't think we'd end up here when I wrote this. :)) My only goal back then was to write a happy fix-it fic for both ships, but honestly getting them to reconcile was difficult. I hope you guys all enjoyed it; it's been a crazy four months! Sorry this last update took forever. Thank you all for reading!


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